Sunday, May 27, 2012

If you've been visiting my hosts throughout this month, you'll have found out a lot about the setting, characters, and general stuff in Scotch Broom. Now's the time to test what you learned. But I am one of those kind teachers who give open book tests. The link that provides the answer to each question is sitting right there waiting for a click.

This is how you play. Find as many answers as you can. Plop them into an email and send them to me at mgdasef@gmail.com. Be as succinct as you wish. Please include the number of the question with your answer. Send me the answer by end of day of May 31st (my day, which is PDT), and I'll choose the winner--whoever answers the most questions correctly. If there's a tie, I will choose the FIRST person who sends me the answers AND I may choose the 2nd, 3rd, 4th, etc. for prizes as well. If nothing else, just do it for fun.

Want to know what you're playing for (how many times have we heard Jeff Probst ask that question?)?

All three books in the Witches of Galdorheim series, plus the bonus short story, Spellslinger. Of course, everybody can get the short story by clicking here. I'll throw in a copy of my murder mystery, "Missing, Assumed Dead." And the winner will also receive a gift certificate to the MuseItUp Bookstore. I've said ten bucks, but I may feel more generous.

On to the quiz. Either make a wild guess or click on the question to find the answer on the corresponding blog post.

While Strays of Rio (MuseItUp) isn't a teen book, one of the main characters is fourteen-year-old Luiz, a street kid in Rio de Janeiro. He and his gang are the true heroes of this novel, surviving and enjoying life against all odds.

As part of my research, I visited Grupo Ruas e Pracas, a street kids project in Receife, Brazil. Their German partner organization RUA e.V., which I've been supporting for several years now, got me in contact with the social workers there.

We couldn't have timed our visit better. While we were there, Grupo Ruas e Pracas attended a community event in a nearby park and ran a drumming workshop for street kids in the walled-in backyard of their premises. Ear-deafening but intoxicating rhythms.

The kids were well-behaved and excited to have foreign visitors. The social workers happily answered my many questions. I'd done plenty of research on the situation of street kids in Brazil, knew the worst case scenarios, and sometimes found it hard to reconcile these with the happy kids fooling around and laughing. They'd already been with Grupo Ruas e Pracas for some time, no longer having to fend for themselves on the streets.

When a ten-year-old wants to bum a cigarette, it's certainly a powerful reminder of their background. Or a social worker telling me not to let one of their young charges take photos with my camera. I wanted to slap my forehead for doing that. Did I think him a potential thief? Yes, very likely stealing once was a way for him to get food.

When I watched the boy excitedly snapping pictures and scrutinizing the results on the little display, I couldn't wrench the camera from him. When more of the kids wanted to take photos, the social worker intervened and rescued my camera. Comparing the photos later, I realized that while I'd been hunting for faces, my young fellow photographer aimed for objects that intrigued him, for example the drums lined up without kids and teachers getting in the way.

These kids and the social workers at Grupo Ruas e Pracas taught me a lot. Without them, Strays of Rio would have become a weaker book. The novel started out as a thriller focused on drug gangs, death squads, corrupt police, impunity of the rich, but after my visit with Grupo Ruas e Pracas, the street kids became the true heroes of the novel while the war for money and power rages around them.

Watch for Edith's novel, Strays of Rio, to be released from MuseItUp Publishing this September.

Tuesday, May 22, 2012

Harpies, Book Two of Seraphym Wars series by Rebecca Ryals Russell comes out soon. But you might wish to read the Prequel, Prophecy first.

BLURB

For centuries the residents of Solsyl lived in peace and harmony with the planet. Then the dragon-demons arrived, causing the Great Shuddering. Majikals from everywhere scurried to find shelter from the evil while humans hid. Laud regretted his rash decision of exiling the demons on Solsyl and asked one of his advisors, a member of The Conscientia, to protect his people. Jeremiah Holyfield agreed to leave the peaceful world of Revrum Natura for a life of constant strife and fear on the newly renamed planet of Dracwald. But Narciss, ruler of Tartarus and King of the demons, desperately wants what Jeremiah has sworn to protect—a Prophecy of Narciss’s future doom. And Narciss refuses to take no for an answer. But Jeremiah discovers allies along his path and even true love, which he never dreamed possible.

But forever is a long time to protect something without ever letting down one’s guard.

EXCERPT

Journal of Reverend Jeremiah Holyfield

500 yl Toxicorru Epoch

Haazbul Village, Season of Torridaesta

Chapter One

Laudday, 15th Sun Turn of Torridaesta

The flaming village blazed high into the night. Those who could escape, screamed in their search for family members. Others, trapped, shrieked, burning to death.

Alarmed by the cacophony, I jolted out of my meditations, heart pounding. What had happened to our peaceful community? Throughout the village, building timbers groaned, thundering in collapse under the licking flames. The stained glass windows of the church, sitting high on the mountain many paces from the village, nonetheless rattled with the vibration. Children wailed. Mothers yelled. Victims shrieked. Monsters roared.

Dodging pews, I ran toward the heavy, carved doors of the church. Rough brown priest’s robes flapped behind me like angel wings, sandals slapping time to my steps. With slow caution, I pushed the door open a crack to peer out. Banshee wails and leviathan roars filled the night air. Acrid odors of charred flesh and wood burned my nostrils. It wasn’t possible that this was happening again. Throughout the village, confusion reigned; screaming people scattered, seeking shelter, desperate for safety.

But it no longer existed. Once any of the row houses or shops in this tightly packed community caught fire, the entire village began to burn. If only we’d built the church closer to the village, it could have provided shelter now. But who would have guessed, after so many centuries, they would return to wreak havoc. The setting of the church on the mountainside, for the villagers to gaze upon, had provided peace. Until now—there was no place to hide. Too far away to provide assistance, I had no hope of making my way to the village. The flying beasts of carnage saw every movement despite the darkness of night.

Tears rolled down my cheeks. My parishioners, loyal and loving, always there when I needed them, now needed me more than ever, and I couldn’t go. There might as well be a sea between us. Through the smoke and flames, I scanned what was left of the village, recalling its construction. Hundreds of years ago, we harvested wood from the surrounding forest. But being built of wood made the village vulnerable. Villagers’ flats and cottages clustered along a narrow dirt path interspersed with taller buildings, the living quarters above, the shops at street level. Sobbing openly, I observed flames now shooting from the roofs of the taller buildings, tinder and ashes falling onto the shorter dwellings, lighting them aflame.

Outside the sanctuary of my church, standing on the high stone steps, I watched the horror. My heart quivered with each shriek or building collapse. Orange, yellow, and red, the flames’ chaotic dance wove mesmerizing designs against the black backdrop of night’s theatre. Clouds of purple smoke billowed upward obliterating the full moon—hiding the moon’s face as though horrified.

Wailing, his body engulfed by flames, a young child ran toward the church. Behind him, his family’s small cottage collapsed in a shower of sparks and groaning wood. As I raced down several steps, a deep voice filled my head.

“You must guard what must never be destroyed.”

“But the boy, Lord, he must be saved.” I continued down several steps, aware of the danger overhead but driven to save this one life. Movement caught the red eyes of the aggressor who circled in my direction. Head swiveling side to side, he changed direction—apparently seeing something of more immediate interest.

Eyes wide, heart drumming against ribs, I watched as the beast clasped the boy’s shoulders in its long claws of malevolence, lifting him high. The boy screamed and wriggled. Hot, fresh tears of anger and frustration soaked my cheeks. Angrily I swiped them away with back of my hand, wishing it was the demon instead. Leathery wings whooshed like a blacksmith’s bellow feeding the devouring flames. Moments later, a small leg and arm thudded in the dirt. My head dropped. Tears flowed unimpeded.

“There is no shame. You could not have saved him. He is safely home with me now, happily rejoined with his family.”

“Why, Lord? Why must these good people endure such agony?” I screamed at the sky. “There are others who are yet alive—who need saving.” Villagers’ screams echoed across the rocky mountain face.

Down the wide stone steps I stumbled, determined to rescue those still alive and help the others to their eternal rest. The dragon, his black scaled silhouette crossing the full moon, must have seen me—his arch enemy’s servant.

As the monster dove toward me, Laud, Lord of Love and King of the Megaverse, roared through my head, “No! You cannot save these children; it is too late. Their home is with me now. You must save yourself and what you guard.”

“How? I am powerless against these leviathans!” The beast hurtled toward me, neck outstretched, mouth open wide to release a flaming stream of death.

“You must run—hide. Take what is precious. Find no shame; if it saves my children, it is honorable.”

“As you say, Lord.” Filled with sorrow, a stone in the pit of my stomach, I turned my back on the burning village and ran back inside the church. Outside, the screeching roar filled the night. The building vibrated. Surely the demon had lit it aflame.

Trembling hands that faltered the locking mechanism several times, finally opened the hidden door behind the altar. Here, a secret room contained irreplaceable parchments and artifacts. Anxiously adjusting to the dimness, I frantically searched for the particular parchment in my charge. It only took a second to secure it beneath my robes.

The bitter odor of smoke drifted down from the burning belfry.

Knowing there were mere minutes left, I added any artifacts or parchments that would fit into the rucksack. Back in my chamber, I threw on my rough brown cloak, clasped the brooch, and grabbed what few personal items I desired. Several roars reverberated throughout the empty sanctuary. They must have tired of the village, or there was nothing left. Now they would destroy the church. I glanced around at the hand-hewn log walls and rough pews built by loving hands. Running my hand across a piece of wall, I discovered evidence of teenagers in love, their initials carved inside a heart. It was not smoke that burned my eyes as I eased open the heavy door again.

For centuries we’d been happy, left alone by the Tyrant of Darkness. We lived under the wire, kept quiet about celebrations, about business dealings. No one bragged. No one left the village in search of greater riches. We raised our families and kept our noses clean.

Then they came back. There must have been a spy. A gypsy or traveling salesman we didn’t notice carrying stories of our village to who knows whom. Perhaps the spy embellished the tale to their benefit. No matter, now, the poor villagers paid the price. If any survived, it would take decades to rebuild the village—centuries to grow it back to its current heyday.

Peering skyward through the crack in the door, I watched for the beasts to be distracted so I could get away.

The belfry collapsed. The church quickly filled with smoke. Soon flames flickered along the massive beams in the upper rafters. I was out of time.

Overhead dragons glided through the darkness, gloating as they languidly circled. Red eyes, glaring at the hysterical residents, pierced the murk and smoke. Throaty laughter filtered down to the shocked villagers. They stopped running, turning sooty faces upward. The demons flew past the full moon—their sinister serpentine shadows slithering on the charred ground.

Some people dropped to their knees in supplication, praying to the beasts of darkness to be left alone. I cringed, knowing they were lost the moment their knees hit the dirt. In the shadows, a few brave villagers searched for survivors, praying I’m sure, for deliverance by their beneficent divinity.

Creeping out the barely opened door, I crouched on the top step. Inside, the crashing continued as beams collapsed from the flaming roof. It was now or never. My cargo was too precious to lose. I ran down the many stone steps.

The sulfuric blast of flames overhead drew my attention. My eyes widened in terror; the largest of the archfiends stared at me. His tiled lips peeled back to reveal long, dripping fangs that oozed a thick substance. Death in scales. He growled. Wings folded, he dove.

I jumped, rolling beneath the stone and logs of the stairwell, to hide. Craning my neck, I looked up at the massive church set on the mountainside, majestic and intimidating. Inside, beams and rafters continued to crash, ash shooting out through shattered windows. Protection of this stone building was of no importance compared to the loss of life this day. It would be rebuilt. Those lives could not. Neither were the parchments I carried replaceable. Especially the one beneath my robes. I must, at all cost, keep it safe. I swore an oath to Laud when I volunteered for this duty.

Before I could pull my head back to safety beneath the steps, a flaming beam flew out of a window directly at me. Moments later, I collapsed under a crushing, burning pile of debris. Agony screamed through me as the searing flames licked greedily at my flesh. Through shear force of will, I bit back a roar, realizing it would mean certain death. I pushed the burning beam off my shoulder and face while trying to slide out from under it. Nerve endings on my face and hands shrieked in my brain as their lives ended—echoing the villagers’ screams. Once free of the still burning, charred beam, I looked frantically around. Village herbalists had used a certain plant for burns and skin eruptions. Stiff, pointed leaves indicated a clump of aloe growing beside the steps.

With hands that felt as though they would split open any moment, I broke several of the tough spiny leaves off the main plant. The sticky gel spread across my face, neck and hands with a cooling effect. It stopped the burn. My shoulder, protected by the singed but wearable tunic and robe, felt only bruised. My right eye, however, had begun to swell shut.

The remainder of the plant easily pulled free of the dirt in which it grew. After shaking the loose dirt from the roots, I tucked it into the rucksack. Looking up from my hiding spot, beneath the stone steps, and surrounded by masses of shrubs, I realized Narciss, the large black dragon and leader of the demons, had gotten his last revenge on me.

Red eyes narrowed into angry slits blazed in triumph as he roared, lighting the front of the church on fire. He flew by several times more with his gaping jaw spouting flames until the church was a blazing inferno.

“Now, that is better,” the demon bellowed, rising to circle with the other laughing dragons.

For hours, flames continued to flare, sparks popping high into the jet sky. Cottages, shops, and church burned. Whenever the fire diminished, a dragon descended, blazing a new trail of flame accompanied by roars that surpassed thunder, as he swooped across the village relighting it. Screeches and wails again filled the air as the renewed flames discovered hidden survivors, ending their search for sanctuary. As the moon crept across the smoke-filled night, the dragon dance continued, circling wider in search of missed victims.

Eventually the sound of wailing faded into whimpering and crying until life succumbed. Only the crackling and crashing of the collapsing wooden structures mingled with the laughing roars of the dragons. On the ground, the few terrified survivors huddled together crying or dying.

A rosy glow streaked across the horizon before the dragons turned toward home, their sinuous shapes silhouetted black. The largest swerved back spewing one final trail across the smoking demolished village. Survivors scrambled again for safety, scampering wild-eyed through the mud and soot, cowering behind anything still standing.

Once the dragons again became interested in the village, I scrambled from my hiding spot under the steps. Staying close to the mountain, using shrubbery as cover, I made my way toward the desert, away from the village.

A few miles away but close enough to witness the final blow, with tears racing down my sooty cheeks, I watched from an outcropping of rock.

The black dragon bellowed before departing, “Perhaps next time you will do as you are told!”

LINKS

Here are the links and topics detailing where I’ll be all month. Check them out and win PRIZES.

Comment on EACH of my postings (listed above with links) showing you read the posting. Commenters will acquire ONE point per comment. At the end, fill out the form on my blog, Under the Hat.

The prize? This lovely Phoenix medallion and a bag of swag including Odessa notepad, Seraphym Wars pen, Mind the Signs bookmark, coverart Postcards for each book in both series AND an eBook copy of my newest release: Harpies, Book Two Seraphym Wars Series.

Rebecca Ryals Russell writes MG and YA Dark Fantasy while living with her family in a Victorian house on five acres of North Florida countryside. She also runs a Vacation Rental Log House on the property: Florida Black Bear Cabin.

She is a fourth generation Floridian having lived all over the state. The daughter of an Elementary-school principal and school secretary, she always knew she was bound for the classroom and for fourteen years she taught Middle Grades, preferring English and Creative Writing. She had several students’ works published in anthologies as well as her own poetry, photography and stories.

Her main interests are her four teenaged and young adult children and Irish hubby of many years. She enjoys spending her time writing, drawing, going to movies, reading, discussing philosophy and politics with her college-aged son.

Be sure to check out the special interactive Middle Grade Reader website Tween Word Quest for tons of information about Stardust Warriors as well as the other projects Rebecca has in the works and Under the Hat for all of her other works.

Since I don't have anything else to say, I'll fill in this empty spot with my latest book trailer. Setara's Genie is scheduled for August or September, exact date as yet unknown. But I do have a cover and a fully-edited manuscript. All I'm waiting for is a date and a last look at the galley.

Thirteen-year-old Danny is
astounded when his father decides to send him to Dark Lord Academy to
learn to be a villain. Pa claims it will make him stand out and
fulfill his own lost childhood dreams. Being evil doesn’t appeal to
Danny, but he’s always been a good and obedient son, so he goes.

Dark Lord Academy’s not
just unappealing, it’s downright terrible. His advisor dyes Danny’s
blond hair black and changes his name to the unpronounceable Zxygrth.
He can’t get the hang of maniacal laughter, his second-in-command
servant is a puke-colored monkey, and the cafeteria lady enjoys
serving stewed cockroaches or fried bat wings. A run in with a hero
results in hate mail and he gets caught up in a rivalry with the
school bully. The only way for Danny to stay alive is to find his
inner villain.

Leave
a comment to win a free copy of the book!

Carly, the Evil
Cafeteria Lady

In writing “A School for
Villains” one my most challenging considerations was the food. How
do you make cafeteria food evil when it already is?

Okay, so not all
cafeterias are evil, but let’s face it, a good many of them do seem
to be. Cold and lumpy food, or the only thing they’re serving is
something you hate. In considering what villains eat, I had some easy
answers (eye of newt and toe of frog anyone?) but needed to dream up
the evil woman behind the madness, who enjoys making the most
disgusting foods possible. From spider pancakes to stuffed
cockroaches, she delights in horrifying the students of Dark Lord
Academy with their next meal.

This leaves newcomer Danny
(renamed Zixy by his advisor) stumped with what to say when served up
a plate of food. Do you compliment the chief by telling her it’s
awful? Or say it looks delicious? Is eating it or not eating it the
way to show it’s the evilest of dishes? Carly, built like a sumo
wrestler and always wielding her wooden spoon like a weapon, leaves
him constantly guessing.

Carly enjoys watching
Danny stumble over his attempted polite compliments in part so much
because many people in a cafeteria, especially when in a hurry, don’t
pay much attention to their food, and honestly, considering what
Carly cooks, it’s the best strategy for surviving school meals.
Danny offers her an opportunity to show off, and face it, even
teachers need to show off once in a while. Nothing is more satisfying
than a properly shocked student.

What Danny doesn’t know,
is that in Dark Lord Academy, being in charge of the cafeteria is not
a simple or low-paying position. Carly is a proper teacher (although
usually not of first year students). Cooking up poisons and potions
is of course a crucial skill for dark lords, and it’s her simple
love of experimenting on the students daily that keeps her dedicated
to the school kitchens. Despite that, there’s not a lot of
recognition out there for the school cook. It’s far less flashier
than something like necromancy or invasion strategizing, so the
students are exactly lining up for extra lessons (or second
helpings).

When Carly catches Danny
in a food fight, she has the perfect opportunity to corner him into
private lessons about evil culinary skills under the guise of
detentions.

Excerpt:

Carly grabbed him by the
ear and shoved him through the kitchen doors. It was all Danny could
do to keep from moaning. An enormous stack of dirty dishes covered
one wall of the kitchen.

“Hah! Why use minions
when I have disobedient little students like you?” Carly chortled
her sour laugh again. “But if you think you can use Dark Magic to
get them clean, go right ahead.”

Danny knew better than to
respond to that. He
rolled up his black sleeves and started scrubbing. Carly sat in a
chair, put up her feet, and started reading a huge book entitled:
“The Better Dungeons and Graveyards Cookbook.”

“Umm…” Danny mumbled
from within an enormous pot he had to practically crawl into to get
to the bottom. It stunk like rancid oil, making it hard to breathe.
Why the food tasted as it did was becoming all too clear.

“Can’t hear ya, speak
on up?” Carly sounded jolly.

Danny took a deep breath,
gagged, and searched for an appropriate answer. “What about
dessert?”

“Ah ha! I like the way
you think!” Carly slammed the book on the table so loudly Danny
jumped, spraying suds in the air and banging his head on the side of
the pot. “I’ve got just the book—Dargroth’s Deadly Delights!
I haven’t read that in years!”

Danny rubbed his head and
stared after her a moment as Carly went to fetch it. Then he set back
to scrubbing the pot as hard as possible, hoping against hope he
could somehow finish before getting a list of grossed out desserts.
But it was more likely Armageddon would arrive, considering the stack
of dishes still tottered up near the ceiling.

***

About Ardyth:

Ardyth DeBruyn is a native
Oregonian with a restless nature and a degree in Anthropology. After
hiking over 1500 miles across Europe and living on the Mexican border
for a year, she settled back in the Pacific Northwest (for now) to
write fantasy stories. She has decided she can type herself into
adventures faster than walk. She has fiction published in a number of
webzines and two children’s novels, ”Chosen Sister,” with Wild
Child Publishing, and “A School for Villains.”

Friday, May 18, 2012

Greetings! Thank you for allowing me to be a guest on your
site today Marva! I’m looking forward to having a tremendous time sharing posts
and having “Giveaways” on various blogs with the Summer Teen
Reading Party event! There will be amazing book titles and fabulous
interviews with authors from all genres participating! Be sure to stop by and
check it out!

When I look back to when I had less wrinkles and a smaller
backside, I remember the excitement of summer! To be free from the confines of
school and ready to make memories with my friends over the summer break, but I
also recall having time to relax and read a good book. Whether it was on a
vacation we had taken to the beach or a lazy afternoon in the backyard, I found
the time to sit and experience the fantasy realms of some of my favorite
stories. I’m a BIG fan of Greek Mythology and the legendary heroes of
yesteryear. I believe this type of ‘epic
adventure ‘writing help mold my own form of literary style and created a vast
foundation of imagination outlets to pull from when I’m constructing my young
adult series ELEMENTS. I have written and published two books in the series
thus far and plan to release the third in the series just before summer begins
in 2012.

The ELEMENTS
novels follow the lives of fraternal twin brothers Gage and Talon Thorn. They
were born from an ancient prophecy and have the extraordinary elemental
abilities of fire and water. A wicked underworld emperor is determined to
destroy the ‘Brothers of Prophecy’ and claim the earth realm for his own if the
brothers don’t learn how to control their gifts and save humanity from the
clutches of evil. The twins must experience tragedy, loss and defeat before
they try to push forward and live up to what destiny has asked of them. The
challenge has been set forth by dark forces and the world must put their faith
in a pair of young brothers. The future is uncertain.

To find out more about the ELEMENTS series please visit Kate Fuentes webpage for more details.

I’m also quite
excited to include a giveaway for your readers today! One reader can win an
ebook copy of my first book, ELEMENTS: The Beginning, FREE! Answer a question, ‘like’ the Elements
Facebook page and follow me on Twitter to begin earning points! A random winner
will be chosen by Rafflecopter! Good Luck!

Also,
check back throughout the month of May on the Summer Reading Party site and see
if you could win ALL three books!

Thank you for having me as a guest on your blog! I really
appreciate having the opportunity to speak with your readers!

Warm Regards,

Kate

To
contact the author, Kate Fuentes, visit the following social media sites:

My name is Kate Fuentes, author of a young adult fantasy series
called Elements. I modeled the characters after my two sons and created the
fantasy realm as a story to read to my children at night. I'm fascinated at the
enormity of endless imagination that we humans are capable of having, and enjoy
being able to write fiction for others to appreciate as well.

My series includes: Book one, Elements:
The Beginning, Book two, Elements:
Veil of Darkness, and soon to be released in the summer of 2012, Book three,
Elements: Kingdom of Aqueous. I plan
to continue the installments and have not decided how many books will complete
the series. I, like so many of my author counterparts, aspire to create more
books and characters for my readers to enjoy. I have two projects currently in
the beginning phases of conception and will release details in the fall of 2012
on my webpage KateFuentes.com

I attended college in Arizona and transferred to California where I finished
my studies in business marketing and advertising while
progressively composing short stories in the foreground. Research and
development is one of my favorite aspects of writing along with the actual
creation of the story from imagination to the novel itself.

I am quite passionate about writing but also enjoy helping those that
are underprivileged, forgotten, and oppressed by working in a global reach
department during the week in the hopes that I may bring attention to
the causes which will, in effect, inspire others to volunteer or champion for
those less fortunate both locally and around the world.

On a personal note, I am happily married to my junior high sweetheart and we
have two glorious children. We appreciate our time spent with one another and
always make sure we set aside a day for family fun night.

Irish Celtic mythology
and spirituality inspired me while writing my first novel, Emily’s
House. Emily lives in the modern world, but she learns
that she is the last of the line of the Order of Brighid, an ancient
order of Irish women priestesses.

Before I began the
research for Emily’s House, I knew nothing about Celtic mythology.
I soon learned that Ireland is rich with mythic creatures and
entities.

I came across two beings
that I just had to use. The first you may be familiar with: the
Banshee (in modern Ireland it’s Bean SÍ). While there are many
variants of the Banshee myth, the one thing they have in common is
that she keens for the dead. Sometimes her keening is a premonition
of the death to come. At other times she wails for the newly dead,
often said to announce the death of one from an important Irish
family. At times Banshee is described as beautiful:

At other times she is described as
terrifying.

You’ll have to read Emily’s
House to see how my mind imagined Banshee!

The Irish leanan sidhe (also spelled
Lianhan Sidhe) is a lesser known mythological creature. She is most
often depicted as a beautiful muse who offers inspiration to an
artist, but at a price. It is said that the men who fall in love with
her live brief but inspired lives. In the mythos, Lianhan Sidhe seeks
the love of mortal men. If they refuse, she must be their slave. But
if they consent, they are hers and she essentially feeds on their
life, wasting away. The Lianhan Sidhe reminded me of the siren who
lures sailors with her irresistible song, only to crash on the rocks
and perish.

As I read about these two faery women,
I thought, “What if they are sisters?” And what would be
unleashed if something happened to one of them? Would the other have
her sister’s back? Would she seek to avenge her sister?

I used other aspects of Irish Celtic
mythology and spirituality in Emily’s House, but maybe the most fun
was coming up with my own spin on the very old myths of the Banshee
and the Lianhan Sidhe.

I hope you are all enjoying the
fabulous Summer
Teen Reading Party where fun reads abound at summer
sale prices with great prizes thrown in for good measure.

My Summer Teen Reading Party giveaway
is going on now through May 21 so enter through the Rafflecopter
below for your chance to snag swag from me.

From Kirkus Reviews:
With her two best friends by her side and her mother’s memory in
her heart, a teenager undertakes a journey to save the world from an
ancient evil.

Emily Adams has always
known she’s special. Throughout her whole life she’s had visions
of things that haven’t happened yet and she could always read her
mother’s mind. At least, she could until her mother died. Emily
thinks her abilities are just about gone, but the arrival of a
strange creature in her backyard one night proves otherwise. Emily
discovers she is the last of the Order of Brighid, an ancient society
of women sworn to protect the portal to the Netherworld. Now, with
the portal under attack, it’s up to Emily and her two loyal,
wisecracking friends to stop a villainous man before his actions
destroy the world.

Author
Bio:

Natalie
Wright spent her formative years growing up on a farm in Ohio. It was
a fertile environment for an active imagination and inquisitive mind.
She is, however, a city girl at heart and now finds inspiration in
her travels and in the desert environment of her home in Tucson,
Arizona, where she lives with her husband, daughter and her dog
Molly.

My first book, Hike Up Devil's
Mountain, is a MG/tween adventure story with some magic peppered
throughout. Two boys, along with the school bully, have their lives
turned upside down and the only one that can help them lives on top
of Devil's Mountain. The question is will they survive the hike?

I also have a story out titled A Float
Down the Canal. This is also a MG/tween story of twelve-year old Pam
Simpson who has to give up her plans to watch her brother. The next
bomb is dropped when her mother says her cousin, Candy, is also
coming over. Pam doesn't even like her cousin. She is too prissy.
This is a story about how Pam's worst day ever, becomes one she will
never forget and it all starts with a float down the canal.

For Hike Up Devil's Mountain, I was
watching my grandson play with a plastic dragon and I came up with a
great ENDING for a story. All I had to do was come up with a
beginning and a middle.

A Float Down the Canal is actually a
mostly true story about when we were kids. We were a rowdy bunch and
the names were changed to protect the innocent! LOL

(Q) Did you have to research a lot? If
so, what are your favorite sources?

Very little research was done for these
two stories. They are totally fiction and first hand knowledge.

(Q) How long did it take you to finish,
from concept to final product?

HUDM took about 6 months. When I
started writing this, my daughter was teaching 5th grade. I asked
her to read the first few chapters to her class and see if there was
any interest or did they fall asleep while it was being read. Well
they liked it very much and she used the remaining chapters as
incentive - and it actually worked for her!

(Q) What do you do for fun other than
writing?

I really like going 4-wheeling. We
live so rural and there are tons of dirt roads around that need
exploring. We do lots of exploring. I also like to…a hum….gamble,
as we live fairly close to Laughlin, Nevada, and of course there are
the grand kiddies. I have 7 of the little darlings and I love
visiting with them.

(Q) Do you have any favorite place
where you feel your Muse is more apt to come and play while you
write? Or perhaps you listen to music? If so, what do you listen to?

When I am writing a story I do it
horizontally. I lay on the couch with a pad of paper. TV can be on
or music can be blaring. Now when I edit, I usually do that when
nobody is up - 4 am in the morning, or later in the evening. I need
quiet for that!

(Q) Do you secretly want to write another
genre, but don't think you can do it?

I would love to give a shot to romance
with a touch of erotic. I am on the backside of 50 so I would really
need to whip this imagination into gear!

(Q) In your ideal world, put in order
those of most value to you:

True love, family, success at writing,
world peace, clean air and water, other.

(Q) What are your writing strengths?
Weaknesses?

I think I am pretty good at getting
into a kid's character. I love a kid with whit and sarcasm and my
own kids have given me plenty of usable material, which they come by
honestly. I also worked with kids for 21 years.

My weakness is sitting down on a
regular schedule to get my writing down. I am such an outdoors
person and I want to be playing.

(Q) Coffee or tea?

Oh coffee….or I
should say, add a little coffee to my flavored creamer!

(Q) Do you have any new projects that
you are working on? If so, what are they?

Sometime in May my short story, Billy
Cooper's Awesome Nightmare, is due out. It's a time travel fantasy
about 7th grader, Billy Cooper, who finds out on Friday afternoon, he
has an oral report due on Monday on whatever subject he draws out of
a box. Well, he is annoyed as he has way too many things to do during
the weekend. He figures 5 minutes on the computer and he will skate
by on this assignment. All that changes when he finds himself in the
14 century, face to face, with his drawn subject.

I am hoping to do a series on this type
of story. Today's kids, with their humor and speech, meeting up with
historic legends. I think the stories could be funny, adventurous,
with a little education thrown in.

(Q) What do you do to market your work?
How did you start and where do you learn to market?

Let me say Marva, this is a continuous
work in progress. I have been published for not quite a year and
marketing was all new to me. I mean I figured I would sign my
contract and the money would start pouring in. YIKES…Writing is
the easy part. I am still learning this whole marketing adventure.
I have my website on my car. I have bookmarks. I twitter, use Face
book, and blog. I've been interviewed on the radio and have my story
in a few school libraries and the city library. Marketing is not for
sissies!

(Q) Do you have or used to have a day
job? Did it inform your writing in any way?

I was a school secretary for the
principal in a K-8 school. I have heard so many excuses from every
age child. So many times I had to leave my office because I was sure
I would burst out laughing. Funny how even the rowdy ones leave an
imprint on your heart (in a good way) I promised myself when I
retired, I was going to write for this age group and I am giving it
my best shot. Also, I could always find the little kids in the
library, but not so much the older ones. I can't stress enough how
very important I think it is that in today's world, kids need to read
and read well.

That being said, I also think kids of
today should be able to escape some of the realities of the world to
a world of fantasy and adventure. That's what I am trying to do.

Hike Up Devil's Mountain

Blurb:

Ten-year old Andy Thompson disobeys his mother and sneaks into the basement of an old abandoned house that’s due for demolition. He stumbles upon a mysterious box under an old cabinet. And his troubles begin when he looks inside.

The Crew brothers, twelve-year old Jason, and ten-year old Danny, also find their way to the basement. New to town, Jason has established himself as the school bully. A struggle ensues between Andy and Jason, and the bully ends up as a toad.

Somehow, the boys must reverse the magical spell. And that means hiking up the dread mountain: fast pace, fast action and some scarey turns and surprises on the way! The lives of all three boys seem destined to change forever, if they survive…

Excerpt:

Andy was peering
into the biggest tunnel. Danny peeked in from the other side. A dull
greenish light barely glowed in the inky blackness. It got brighter
and the boys could hear a shuffling sound. The odor was overwhelming.
“Something is coming!” Andy whispered in a panic. “Hide!”

Danny scooped up
his brother and both boys dived behind the big gold rock, holding
their breaths. Andy was afraid he was going to throw up as the
shuffling got louder and the odor got stronger. He started to peek
around the rock, but Danny grabbed his arm, shaking his head
frantically back and forth.

Andy mouthed the
words, “We have to see what it is.”

Danny swallowed and
nodded okay.

Andy and Danny
turned away from each other. Each one slowly peeked around his side
of the rock. Emerging from the tunnel was a slimy, brownish-green,
wormy-type lizard. It had a lizard-shaped head with eyes that were
nothing more than slits. Green goo oozed from his tightly closed
mouth as he dragged along. It had four front legs, two on each side.
Three long black claws protruded at the end of each leg. The two
front legs slowly reached forward to pull the body along, while the
two in the back seemed to just drag along, making it a slow moving .
. . thing.

It finally made its
way completely inside the cave. This thing was at least ten feet long
and four feet tall. The end of its wormy body had a long bony tail
with the same black claw on the end of it that dragged on the ground.
More green ooze dripped off its body leaving a slimy glowing green
path on the cave floor.

Andy and Danny
turned back and looked at each other. Relief flooded their faces. The
thing was so slow. They could walk away from it and still be out of
its reach.

Using his two
fingers next to his thumb, Andy made a sign of walking and pointed to
the tunnel partially covered by the gold rock.

Danny nodded.

A croaky whisper
came from Danny’s pocket, “Well, what was it?’

Danny’s hand flew
up like a shot to clamp his hand over his pocket.

A small, “ugh”
could be heard as the breath was knocked out of the toad.

Both boys, holding
their breath, slowly turned to peek back around. It wasn’t there.
Only eerie puddles of glowing green glob could be seen.

Andy quickly turned
to Danny and raised his shoulders silently as if to ask where is it.

A drop of green goo
plopped between the two boys. The smell was everywhere. A small river
of thick green slime was running down the gold rock. Slowly their
eyes traveled upward.

**************

A Float Down The Canal

Synopsis

Twelve year old Pam
Simpson gets dumped on when her mother is called into work and she
must cancel her plans for the mall to babysit her younger brother and
his friend and go to the public pool. To make matters worse her
cousin, Candy, is also coming over for the day. She doesn’t even
like Candy!

Much to Candy’s
dismay, transportation to the pool is on inner tubes, floating down
the canal. One thing leads to another and it is Pam who, once again,
must save the day.

When things
couldn’t seem worse, the day takes a drastic turn for the better
and it is Candy, and the float down the canal, that makes this the
best day of Pam’s life!

Sunday, May 13, 2012

Tomorrow (May 14th), the book trailer for "Scotch Broom" (Book 2 of Witches of Galdorheim) will be on top of the You Gotta Read book trailer contest. Voting is the 21st-27th. And, of course, Scotch Broom is my featured book for the Summer Teen Read Party going on all through May (schedule in the right-hand sidebar).

Poor "Midnight Oil" is feeling bereft of attention. To remedy that, here's the Midnight Oil book trailer AND its first chapter. Okay, it can quit being jealous now.

Chapter One
Company’s Coming

Present Day,
Galdorheim Island in the Barents Sea

Kat scrambled around her room getting
ready for her grandfather’s arrival. More importantly, Andy would
be coming, too. She dwelled a moment on their one kiss, and her
stomach fluttered. Nearly six months had passed since she’d left
him in Siberia, and that was one hundred and eighty days too long.

She took a last
glance in the mirror and jerked the childish red ribbon from her
hair. The black tresses fell loose down her back. Twisting to check
out her jean-clad rear in the mirror, she smiled.
Yes! Tight enough to show off, but not so tight Mom’ll flip out.

She searched for her bunny-familiar and
found Teddy snoozing under the pillow. Kat nudged him. He blinked and
yawned.

“Hey, lazy
butt, want to come along?”

“Cold.”

“Not too cold.
I’ll carry you.”

Teddy tipped his
head. Kat could almost hear the little gears grinding. “Okay.”

She tucked Teddy into the sling and
hurried to the parlor where her family waited.

Rune, her half-brother, yawned. “About
time.”

“I can’t just
throw any old thing on like you do!” Kat stuck out her tongue at
him but had to admit he always looked great. If he’d only wear some
other color than black.

“Let’s go.” Ardyth, her mother,
snapped her fingers. A brown velvet cape leapt from its hook, draping
itself around the statuesque blonde’s shoulders. The dragon clasp
hissed as it snicked shut at her throat. The tall witch glanced in
the mirror hung above the coat hooks and patted her pale hair into
place.

Kat’s family left the house and
walked together down the main street of the village. Other Wiccans
came out of their homes, silently falling into step behind them. They
made their way toward the portal, which served as entrance and exit
to the magic, bubble-like barrier. Without the protective shield,
their village would freeze like the rest of the tiny, icebound island
of Galdorheim. When they passed the Council Hall, the head witch
joined them.

Kat dipped her head in greeting. “Good
morn, Aunt Thordis.”

A tweak of a smile touched Thordis’
upper lip, and she nodded in greeting to her niece. “Ardyth,”
Thordis said to Kat’s mother, “I assume you finished preparing
the cave for the ceremony?”

“Yes. I put out
the black drapery and moved in a small altar. It’s quite charming.
If only Boris looked as good.” Ardyth tsked and shook her head. “I
do wish he’d been, well, in a more, ah, dignified
position when the ice caved in. That broken leg sticking out. The big
hole in his head. Terrible.”

Kat patted her mother’s arm. “Don’t
worry, Mom. I’m sure Dad doesn’t mind. After being stuck in the
ice for fourteen years, that’s the last thing he’d worry about.”

Ardyth raised her
voice. “Well, he might!” Nearby witches glanced their way. She
leaned toward Kat and whispered, “After all, he’s not dead yet! I
don't like people just assuming.”

Thordis stopped and faced her sister.
“And he’s not going to die here if I have anything to say about
it!”

Ardyth winced. “All right, all right.
I won’t thaw him. I’d just like a chance to tell him how much…”
Ardyth’s voice hitched.

Thordis shot her sister a look, but
said nothing more. The older witch walked through what looked like a
simple garden gate, set in a shimmering wall of soap bubble film. The
others followed close behind.

The half-siblings looked at each other.
Rune shrugged with a questioning look. Kat took his arm, leaning
close to his ear.

“Mom wants to say goodbye.”

“I know,”
Rune replied. “Don’t you? Like, he is
your father.”

“Aunt Thordis said it’d be too
painful for him if he thawed. He might live for only a few seconds.
It’s not worth it.”

“So, he’ll just be a popsicle
forever, eh?”

Kat slugged her younger brother’s
bicep and hissed, “That’s awful!”

“I know,”
Rune shot back with a grin, exposing the longer than normal canines
he’d inherited from his vampire father.

Kat pursed her
lips and narrowed her eyes. She elbowed him lightly in the ribs. “If
you act like such a child,
Nadia won’t be interested in you.” The comment stopped him in his
tracks.

Rune hissed out a breath and looked at
his feet. “Okay, you win this one. I hope she came along like she
promised.”

“Oh, she’s
probably forgotten all about you.” Kat suppressed a smirk. “I
think it’ll just be Grandfather Ivansi and Andy. Maybe a few of the
Sami hunters to help.”

With an evil grin, he sang in a
whispering lilt, “Katrina loves Andy. Katrina loves Andy.” Kat
envied her little brother’s knack for flying below the older
witches’ radar. The elders never seemed to see his mischievous side
when he pulled some stunt. They all thought him the perfect little
warlock-slash-vampire.

Kat sighed. Maybe she was in love. At
almost fifteen, she’d never had a boyfriend before. When Andy
kissed her, it felt…totally awesome. Now he was almost here, she
felt her palms getting damp. She dried first one then the other on
Teddy’s fur, trying to look like she was simply petting her rabbit.

While her mind wandered to thoughts of
Andy, the family reached the portal leading to the ice-bound part of
the island. The glacier that encased the body of Kat’s father
hulked above them a hundred feet to the right of the gate. They
continued down a barely visible path leading to the edge of the
water. Eight months of the year, solid ice surrounded the island,
plus another two months of floe ice. Only during a brief summer
period did the water clear, opening the way for boats to reach them.
During the winter months, the jetty was only a jutting piece of ice.
Now, with it melted, she could see the tiny wooden pier the Wiccans
built to provide a place to tie boats.

Kat searched the horizon. Wondering if
her grandfather would come by kayak, she decided a paddleboat
wouldn’t work if he planned to take back the block of ice
containing her father. No, he would need to bring something bigger.

Rewarding her
vigil, two black dots appeared far out to sea. The older witches
waited patiently as the boats approached, but Kat stood on tiptoe,
leaning forward as if it would help her see better. Did
he come? She pressed her lips
tightly together. No use sweating over it. He would either be with
them, or he wouldn’t.

The two boats finally neared enough to
make out their general outlines, but not close enough for her to see
if Andy was present. Rune’s sharper vampire vision could pick out
details better than Kat’s.

She elbowed him. “What kind of boats?
How many people?”

“Don’t get
all worked up,” he replied. When Kat frowned at him, he relented.
“It looks like a motorboat, maybe a thirty-footer, and a three-man
kayak. The motorboat must be pulling the kayak ‘cause I don’t
think even Sami fishermen can paddle that fast.”

Once Rune told her what he saw, she
could also make out the two boats. “I see them,” she called out,
pointing and bouncing on the balls of her feet. Teddy almost fell out
of the sling.

“Yes, dear,”
Aunt Thordis answered, patting her shoulder. “We all see the boat.
Now calm down.”

Kat’s cheeks reddened, and she
planted her feet flat on the ground. She didn’t want to look too
eager. Andy might have thought the kiss was just between friends.
Maybe she had read too much into it. She jammed her hands into her
pockets to hide their trembling.

Finally, the motorboat eased up to the
little pier. Kat’s grandfather moved to the bow and bent to pick up
a coil of rope lying on the deck. Before he could grasp it, the free
end sprang away from him, tying itself around a piling. Kat glanced
back to see her mother’s upraised hand, directing the rope with a
flick of her wrist. Startled, Ivansi straightened and smiled. He
waved at Ardyth and moved to the back of the motorboat. At the stern,
he picked up the thick cord, holding it up and away from his body.
Ardyth gestured again, and it performed the same trick as the bow
mooring line.

“That’s a
neat spell with the rope. I’d like to learn it,” Kat commented.

“‘Line,’ sis,” Rune replied.
“If it’s on a boat, it’s called a ‘line.’”

Kat shrugged and mumbled, “Whatever.”

She forgot Rune when she saw a head of
black hair through the windshield of the small pilot’s cabin. She
raised her hand halfway but stopped and pressed it to her chest. Her
heart pounded, and cold little fish swam up and down her spine.

The head rose
higher, and Kat recognized Nadia, the girl Rune had become friends
with at the Sami village. Rune trotted forward. Nadia left the cabin
and came out on the open deck. Rune was ready to take her hand. She
emitted a startled squeak and then giggled as he levitated her from
boat to pier.

Meanwhile, the kayak pulled up to the
other side of the pier, and three Sami men hopped out, tying it to
another piling. Kat scanned the small group, but the boy she couldn’t
wait to see wasn’t among them. Shoulders slumping, she turned back
and walked over to her grandfather. He put his hands on her arms and
smiled, showing strong, white teeth in his brown, weather-beaten
face.

“Granddaughter, I greet you,” he
said in heavily accented English and kissed her on both cheeks.

She pecked his cheeks in return.
“Grandfather, I greet you as well.” She stood back, and Ardyth
came forward to meet her father-in-law for the first time. Kat
glanced at the boat, but Andy didn’t appear.

She suppressed a sigh. “My mother,
Ardyth.” She kept it simple. English was one of the few languages
the Samis and the Wiccans had in common, but she knew Ivansi spoke
very little of it. He had probably made a special effort to learn the
greeting.

“Daughter, I greet you.” The older
man kissed Ardyth on each cheek. Ardyth surprised Ivansi by throwing
her arms around him. She’d only been Boris’s wife for a few months
before the tragic cave-in, but the old man looked much like her
deceased husband. Kat could almost feel the wave of love and sorrow
flow between the two. They both lost the same person.

The group gathered to walk back to the
village portal. Tonight, a banquet for the visitors, and then,
tomorrow morning, everyone would gather in the ice cave to say a
final goodbye to Boris.

Kat looked back at the empty boat. She
bowed her head, blinking back tears. Andy obviously wasn’t
interested in seeing her, so that was that. She’d get over
it…sometime.